Jan 05 2006
Insults and compliments and wet spots and whatnot
Last night in bed, when it was clear the amorous behavior was leading somewhere, my husband quickly shimmied over to my side of the king-sized bed. Now, an amateur might have thought it cute that he was enthusiastic about the prospect of love-making. “Awww, look, after thirteen years, he’s still excited to come together with the love of his life.”
Me? I know better. His quick action wasn’t because he couldn’t stand to be away from my hot body for another moment, it was all about the WET SPOT. Yeah, it’s a silent competition. I try to get the love-making to occur on HIS side of the bed, he tries to beat me and get it to occur on MY side.
I think women get the short end of the stick here (don’t read too much into that… it’s not significant to the size of any stick-type things that might have featured prominently in this story). It’s been my perception from many women that the chick always gets stuck with the wet spot. Now, to be sure, it does sort of follow her around after the deed is done (assuming the deposit has been made, you know, inside the lobby at the teller window and not outside at the ATM).
So anyway, he’s infringing on my nice, clean, dry sheets with the intention of rolling away after they get soiled and sleeping peacefully on his side while I deal with the, you know, fallout.
I called him on it.
Me: “Uh-uh. I know what you’re doing, Smarty McSmartypants. You’re not as sneaky as you think you are. We do it in the middle - neutral territory - or we don’t do it at all.”
Him: “Oh, I AM smart. I’m smarter than you, that’s for sure.”
Me: “Nope, not buying it. I could tell you all my smart secrets used to get everything to go my way, but then that would ruin them for future use. Just trust me – I’m smarter.”
Him: “Nope, I’m smarter, and I can easily prove it.”
Me: “Go on, dawg. Prove it.”
Him: “Okay, carefully consider these facts: look who YOU chose to marry and then look who *I* chose to marry. Now…. tell me who is smarter.”
What’s a girl to do in such a situation? I waved the white flag. “Oh, honey, you’re right, you are so smart.” I said as I rubbed him *there* and rolled us over to the other side of the bed.
But I’m still not sure if I was meant to feel flattered or insulted….
WordPress database error: [Can't open file: 'wp_comments.MYI' (errno: 144)]
SELECT * FROM wp_comments WHERE comment_post_ID = '170' AND comment_approved = '1' ORDER BY comment_date
